The Witching Hour
by Mokibobolink
Summary: Tony & Dean never wanted anything to do with Halloween. But when the two decide to hang out on Halloween night, something has other ideas in mind. To save their lives, Dean is forced introduce his new friend to the world of the supernatural. Not Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Hey Folks!

Well here it is as promised, My NCIS/Supernatural crossover Halloween story. I started writing this story before last week's Halloween themed episode of NCIS, which has made it now AU as I have Tony off Halloween weekend rather than working. I had no idea they were going to do a Halloween ep this year so I guess that's just the way it goes. Also this story is technically a sequel to my story "Mustangs and Impalas" but you don't really need to read it to understand this one.

I'll be updating with one chapter every day, with the final chapter going up on Halloween (Saturday, October 31). Enjoy!

-Moki

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**Title:** The Witching Hour  
**Author:** Mokibobolink  
**Rating:** gen, angst, possibly some h/c in later chapters  
**Warning:** some foul language

**Characters:** Tony DiNozzo, Dean Winchester

**Spoilers:** All aired episodes of NCIS and Supernatural (just to be safe)

**Summary:** Tony and Dean never wanted anything to do with Halloween. But when the two decide to hang out on Halloween night, it seems something else has other ideas in mind and Dean has to introduce his new friend to the world of the supernatural. Not Slash.

Chapter One

_It was a match made in Heaven._

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Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was not having a good day. In fact, if one wanted to get right down to it, he wasn't having a good week. The team had been hit with a myriad of cases and the moment they solved one, Gibbs' phone would ring and they'd be off on another. It seemed like every crazy in town was not only gearing up for Halloween (which was in two days), but also reacting to the full harvest moon the night before. Tony hadn't enjoyed anything about Halloween since he was a kid. Now that he was a cop, he detested it even more.

Tony had barely been home in days and couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a meal that didn't involve shoving the mound of files, pictures and other assorted leads off his desk to inhale a slice of cold pizza. People often remarked that he and the boss had iron stomachs, but even Tony was starting to feel like his body would rebel if it wasn't given some real food soon.

Typing as fast as he could, Tony put the final touches on his report and stopped to stretch his neck. Kneading his shoulders with one hand, he yawned and took a look at his partners. Ziva was filling out a form by hand and McGee was running to pick up something off of the printer. They all hoped that once they had finished this case - dotted every "i" and crossed every "t" - they would be done. They hoped that Gibbs' phone would not ring again, not like it had every other time they'd finished their paperwork in the past week (or had it been a month? Tony really couldn't remember).

With some trepidation, Tony saved the document and hit "print". He got to the printer just as McGee and Ziva both handed their reports to Gibbs. Walking over slowly, Tony was almost afraid to drop his onto the boss' desk, too. Perhaps his would be the last straw, the one that triggered the dreaded phone to awake from its slumber.

Gibbs looked up as Tony stood over his desk hesitantly.

"You got a problem, DiNozzo?"

"No, Boss."

"Any particular reason you haven't moved in the last thirty seconds?"

"No reason, Boss."

Shaking himself, Tony dropped the report and walked back to his own corner of the squad room. He desperately wanted to reach for his backpack, but didn't dare. Right now his pack was more than just an object. It meant home, a hot shower and a decent meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw McGee and Ziva hesitating as well.

Gibbs knew that his team was waiting for him to release them and he had every intention of doing so, once he was sure everything was in order. Taking a brief look at the reports on his desk, he smiled slightly.

"Alright, go home. I asked the Director to take us off weekend duty. So I don't need to see any of you until Monday. Go on, get out of here," he waved them off with one hand.

McGee and Ziva were in the elevator so fast, Tony was surprised that a bunch of papers didn't fly up in their wake (like something out of a cartoon). He moved a little slower, finally reaching for his backpack and lugging it to his shoulder.

As he headed out, Tony paused at his boss' desk and Gibbs looked up once again.

"DiNozzo?"

"You leaving too, Boss?" Tony asked. As tired as he was, he hated to think that Gibbs would be staying behind to do more paperwork. The man had to be just as exhausted as the rest of them.

Gibbs smiled, not at all surprised that his second in command was checking on him. He also had no doubt that if he asked Tony to stay, the younger man would, no matter how tired he was.

"Right behind you, just gonna run these up to the Director's office and then I'm out of here. Go home, Tony."

Tony nodded in satisfaction. "On it, Boss," he said with a grin, heading to the elevator.

An hour later Tony was home, showered, and his belly somewhat sated with a large turkey sandwich. He expected to go right to sleep, but strangely enough wasn't tired. He glanced over at the clock on the wall and chuckled.

"Well no wonder, old man. It's not even eight o'clock yet. Guess I'm not as tired as I thought," Tony said out loud to no one in particular. Once he'd been able to relax, his body had recovered somewhat. Currently, sleep was the farthest thing from his mind.

Therein lay the problem. His mind. Without a case, the need for food, a shower or any of a million little other things to keep it occupied, his mind began to wander. It went to places he didn't want it to go. Looked at things he didn't want it to see. The past couple months had been stressful. Ziva taken away, finding out she was dead, going after her killers only to find out she was alive. He and McGee getting themselves caught on purpose, Tony getting hit with truth serum.

It was all really just a bit much and when he had a quiet moment these days, his head practically reeled with all the thoughts that were jumping inside it. The team was back together, but would it ever be the same? Did he really want it the same? He and McGee were finally getting along. They may not be exactly best friends yet , but they were getting there.

Tony shook his head, standing up in an effort to get away from the turmoil inside his own skull. He needed a distraction. Something to take his mind off all of it. He thought about driving to the nearest bar and finding a willing female patron (or barmaid, as the case may be), but then thought better of it. He didn't think anonymous sex was going to do it this time. His old standby method hadn't been helping much recently.

What he needed right then was a friend. Not a colleague. Not someone who knew the whole story. Just a friend. A buddy. A pal. Someone to shoot the shit with, hang out and not have to talk about any of the hard stuff.

Where in the world was Tony going to find someone like that?

Just then, Tony's phone rang.

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Dean Winchester was not having a good day. In fact, if one wanted to get right down to it, he wasn't having a good week. Well, if one really wanted to get nitpicky, it had been a pretty rotten couple of years.

At the moment though, it was all culminating in a bad day.

A few days before, he and his brother had decided to go their separate ways. Dean hadn't been surprised when Sam had suggested it. After all, he'd been half on the verge of saying it himself.

The novelty had been interesting at first. No one to argue with when he decided to listen to his favorite AC/DC album for the one billionth time. No one to ask him to stop singing at the top of his lungs to said album. No one to use up all the hot water before he could get into the shower. No one to complain about him putting his boots on the bed. No one to tell him to knock off with the happy fingers already.

The novelty may worn off fast, but Dean wasn't ready to call Sam. He just couldn't look into his brother's eyes anymore. Not when those eyes begged for the forgiveness that he wasn't able to give yet. How did one forgive someone for turning their back on you, their own brother? For putting their trust in a demon instead?

For the first couple days, Dean hadn't noticed it much. Cas had been around a lot, proving to be a rather interesting (if not downright hilarious) companion. Still, it wasn't the same. Besides, his very own guardian angel had gone off on another quest, leaving Dean all alone on the road again.

To top it off, it seemed like every supernatural being was not only gearing up for Halloween (which was in two days), but also reacting to the full harvest moon the night before. The fact that in October the harvest moon was also known as a hunter's moon had always amused Dean. He and all other hunters he knew certainly worked harder when it was out. He was glad it was gone for another month, but it gave him little joy as he also knew that All Hallows Eve was on its way. Dean had never liked anything about Halloween. Now that he was a hunter, he detested it even more.

For a minute, Dean thought about driving to the nearest bar and finding a willing female patron (or barmaid, as the case may be), but then thought better of it. He didn't think anonymous sex was going to do it this time. His old standby method hadn't been helping much recently.

What he needed right then was a friend. Not another hunter. Not someone who knew the whole story. Just a friend. A buddy. A pal. Someone to shoot the shit with, hang out and not have to talk about any of the hard stuff.

Where in the world was Dean going to find someone like that?

Just then, Dean remembered the business card sitting in his glove compartment. It had been sitting there for a few months, out of sight but not exactly forgotten. As Dean drove, he thought of Tony and the conversation in the coffee shop that morning. He wasn't sure how it was possible, but that guy he'd met by chance for coffee and pie felt like a friend. It made him realize he hadn't had one of those in a long time, not a real one, and right now he felt like he needed one.

Dean had just finished dispatching a werewolf in Virginia and could easily make it to D.C. in a few hours. As he realized how close he was, he decided to make the call. Pulling out the card, he flipped it over and called the cell phone number scrawled on the back. Within two rings it was picked up and he heard a familiar voice.

"DiNozzo."

"Hey Tony, it's Dean."

"Dean! Hey man, how's it going?"

"Good. Listen I was just finishing up a…..job in Virginia, not too far from your neck of the woods. You wanna get a drink?"

On the other end of the line, Tony grinned. By some miracle, the distraction he so desperately needed had just called him. A night out sounded like a great idea.

"Loved to. I know the perfect place." Tony replied, giving Dean the details of where to meet later.

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Dean walked into the bar a couple hours later and surveyed his surroundings instinctively. As a hunter he was always on guard to some extent. As he looked around, he automatically searched for the booth that would provide the best view of the place while giving the most cover. Reminding himself that he wasn't there alone, Dean started looking for Tony. When he saw the other man waving to him from the same spot he himself would have picked, he chuckled. He and Tony hadn't discussed much the last time they'd met, but Dean would bet his best gun that DiNozzo was either military or trained by someone who was.

Tony stood up as Dean approached, and they shook hands. "Good to see you, Dean," Tony said, indicating the other man to take the seat on the opposite side of the booth.

"Yeah, you too."

"So you said you were just finishing up a job nearby? You get around to D.C. often?" Tony asked, raising his hand to order another beer for himself and one for Dean.

"Sometimes. I travel a lot so I probably make it up here a couple times a year," Dean said vaguely, hoping that Tony wouldn't pry too much into exactly what it was that had him travelling so much. To deflect attention off of himself, he decided to ask a few questions of his own. "What about you? You travel much?"

Tony thought about the implications of answering that fully and wondered how much he should tell Dean about his recent trip. Getting kidnapped, beaten and drugged to rescue a partner you thought was dead was probably not the sort of conversation the other man was expecting.

_Right. Keep it simple, DiNozzo,_ Tony reminded himself.

"Sometimes. My job doesn't require me to travel too much. We do most of our work here in town."

Their beers arrived and Dean took a sip of his, smacking his lips appreciatively at the smooth brew. He was getting too used to the dark tap water that passed as beer in so many of the places he frequented. His tongue appreciated the treat.

"So what do you do?"

"I work for NCIS," Tony said, automatically going into the usual explanation. "It stands for…"

"Navy cops, yeah I know," Dean replied. "My dad was in the Corps."

"Semper Fi," Tony said, raising his beer.

Dean raised his as well. "Were you in the Corps too?"

"Nope, I started out as a cop. What about you?"

"Nope, just my dad. He…...," Dean paused as he realized he'd been about to say 'trained'. "He… taught me a lot though. Sometimes I feel like I was in the Marines."

Tony chuckled, setting down his beer on the table and tracing shapes in the water rings it left. "I know how you feel, man. My boss is an ex-Marine and he's taught me a lot too. I think I've probably learned more in the seven years I've been working for him than I ever could have at boot camp."

"Seven years? That's a long time. Then again my dad started in on me by the time I was four, teaching me everything he knew...." Dean paused again, fearful that he'd said too much. Sometimes he forgot that not everyone had a militant father who raised their son at the butt of a gun. How would Tony react to that?

Tony continued to slide his finger on the table, not meeting Dean's eyes. "Sounds like a pretty cool guy."

"Actually he was. He was tough, but he taught me everything I know. I can honestly say I'd be dead if it weren't for him," Dean replied, happy to talk to someone about his father who didn't think the man was a maniac. It was nice to have someone to listen and not judge for a change.

"That's nice," Tony replied. Deciding he didn't want any questions about his own father, he did some deflecting of his own. "So what about you Dean, what is it that you do?"

Dean groaned inwardly, knowing that the question had been bound to come up. He thought of about a million lies, but something wouldn't let him say any of them. For some reason Dean didn't want to lie to the man sitting in front of him. Somehow he didn't think that was what one friend did to another.

Then again, the truth might send Tony running for the hills. Or worse, like reaching for his handcuffs to lock up the crazy loon. Dean chose the simple route.

"It's….complicated. Let's just say I took over the old man's business."

Tony had felt Dean's hesitation. He had also interrogated too many suspects to miss that the other man wasn't telling him the whole truth. Frankly, Tony didn't care. If Dean wanted to keep some things about his personal life to himself, that was his business. Tony had more than a few of those secrets too, so he respected the other man's privacy.

"I hear ya. Now what did you think of that game last week?"

Relieved not to be pushed, Dean went on to discuss the game in question, happy that he'd actually been able to watch it. The two men continued talking into the night. From sports they moved on to music, then movies, then cars, then women. While Tony's taste in music tended to be more for modern artists, the two men found that they had a lot in common. Both loved almost any movie, from classics to horrible B movies that were so bad they were good. They both loved classic cars. They both (no surprise) loved beautiful women.

It was a match made in Heaven.


	2. Chapter 2

_Here's the next chapter, folks. I feel I should give y'all fair warning that my beta (thanks as always, Snail) took one look at this one and dubbed it my most juvenile chapter ever. Well since that was exactly what I was going for, I didn't mind a bit. I wanted the boys to have a bit of fun before things got serious so here's my attempt to show that. _

_Oh and before I get any complaints that what I portray here isn't realistic I just want to say in my own defense that everything in this chapter is either based on things I've observed myself or heard stories about from my guy friends. LOL. _

_Enjoy!_

_-Moki_

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Chapter Two

"_Best Halloween ever."_

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After a few beers (well maybe a lot more than a few) and some shots, Dean and Tony had both forgotten the troubles that had brought them together earlier that night. Tony knew that he was buzzed when he got into a debate about who had been the better James Bond. But when they ended up doing karaoke and singing "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake, that's when Tony knew that he was completely drunk off his ass. He also had no doubt that Dean was in as bad of shape, especially considering the other man was the one who suggested they end their "set" with some REO Speedwagon.

When they finished, Dean looked up in surprise to find that they were the only ones left in the bar. The owner was cleaning some glasses, shaking his head at the unusual musical selections his last two patrons had been singing to for the past hour or so.

Tony grabbed his beer and downed the last of it in a few gulps. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stood up and grabbed Dean's shoulder.

"C'mon man, let's head back to my place. I've got a DVD collection that'll make you drool."

Dean liked the sound of that. "You're on, dude," he replied happily as the two of them headed out.

"JOEY!!" Tony cried as they walked (okay staggered), towards the door. "My friend and I are going to catch a cab. You mind if our babies spend the night locked up in your lot?"

"Not at all, Tony. Have a good night," Joey said, putting away a glass and getting out a broom. Having a federal agent who liked to hang out at his place had its advantages. Joey had long ago given Tony keys to the gate outside and the door to the place. Sometimes if a case got to him and he needed to blow off steam, Tony would leave his car in the lot, catch a cab home and let himself in the next day to get it out.

"Don't worry," Tony told Dean reassuringly. "I lock my baby in here all the time. They'll be perfectly safe."

"Sounds good," Dean replied and after a quick trip to the Impala to pick up his bag, they went out to catch the cab.

Once back at Tony's place they continued to drink, imbibing generously from his liquor cabinet. At about 3am the Trivial Pursuit game started. Even as drunk as they were, they both played pretty well. In the music categories Tony won every question to do with modern rock, while Dean creamed him on the ones about classic rock. In the movie and TV sections they were evenly matched, tying on each question.

By 4am they grew bored of Trivial Pursuit. That's when the belching contest began.

"Dude you are SO going down!" Dean declared, guzzling down more beer. "I have a little brother and I've been playing this game since he was old enough for me to teach him to burp on cue. Ain't no way you're winning this one."

"Try me," Tony said with confidence, his head tilted smugly as he waited to see what his guest could offer in the way of competition.

After ten minutes the game was tied. Giving each other points on duration, originality and even odor, Tony was still able to keep up.

That's when Dean decided to pull out his "Secret Weapon". Gulping air and beer into his stomach at the same time he let loose with a roar that practically made the windows of Tony's apartment rattle.

"Ha!" Dean declared in triumph, pumping a fist into the air. That baby had to be his best yet, even better than the one he'd produced to win The Great Winchester Belch War of 1998. "Beat that!"

Tony regarded his guest silently, quirking one eyebrow. Without moving a muscle or saying a word he let out his own "Secret Weapon".

He farted.

"Oh MAN!! C'mon! No fair!" Dean cried in dismay, holding a hand up over his nose in anticipation of what was to come. "House rules dude! You can't play downstairs in an upstairs war."

Tony calmly took a sip of his beer. "My house, my rules. And I say that was fair and square. Gas is gas my friend."

"Aw HELL!" Dean cried, jumping up off the couch when the odor finally hit his nostrils. "That was cruel and unusual dude, cruel and unusual. I'm gonna hit the head."

When he returned, Tony put "Octopussy" in the DVD player. After some sniggers over the name of the movie, they sat back to watch. The sky was burning orange with the coming sunrise by the time it was over and the two partiers decided to call it a night. Tony helped Dean to pull the sofa out into a bed and gave him spare sheets and pillows. Tony headed to his own room and soon silence reined, punctuated by the occasional snore coming from each room.

When the noon sun shined into the kitchen window some hours later, it found a pretty pathetic sight.

"Oh God….I think I'm dying," Dean said as he held his head and stumbled into the room.

"Stop yelling, will ya?" Tony asked quietly, his hands cradling his own skull as he sat at the small kitchen table. Dean had barely spoken above a whisper, but it sounded like screaming to both their ears. Both of them were suffering from the mother of all hangovers.

Dean sat down across from his new friend as Tony slid a bottle of water towards him along with a small white bottle.

"Aspirin. Water. Take," was all Tony could manage before swallowing the pills in his own hand.

Luckily Dean knew exactly what Tony meant and took the proffered items gratefully. "Thanks."

As they waited for the pills to start working, Tony got up slowly. "Good thing we didn't do any sake bombing last night. Considering how badly my head is pounding now, I don't think I could've handled it."

"_Please_ don't mention alcohol right now," Dean replied, his head back in his hands as he massaged his temples.

Tony chuckled slightly and was immediately sorry as his head pounded even harder. Ignoring it, he started pulling out the ingredients for his tried and true hangover cure. A few minutes later they were each holding their own steaming mug of the brew, sipping judiciously.

The stuff made them feel a little better and soon they were moving around somewhat less like zombies. After showers and a light breakfast of toast, they were very nearly human again.

Tony turned on the TV and as he flipped through some channels, he found that nearly every station was running a horror movie marathon (except for USA, which was running yet another cop show marathon – something they seemed to do almost daily). He was puzzled for a moment, then remembered what day it was.

"Crap..I nearly forgot. It's Halloween."

"Crap… me too," Dean agreed.

"You don't like Halloween either?" Tony asked, surprised. Seemed like everyone he met (except for maybe his boss) loved it and couldn't understand why he didn't.

"No way man, just makes my job harder," Dean replied.

"Tell me about it. Never had a happy Halloween as a kid and ever since I became a cop they've been a royal nightmare."

"I hear ya, dude. We moved around so much when I was a kid that I never got to celebrate it so I just never cared. Now that I do…..what I do, it is nothing but a pain in my ass."

"Guess that means you're not gonna be taking off later for a major party, eh?"

Dean laughed, shaking his head as he took another sip of water. "Not me, how about you?"

"Nah. I have this friend, Abby. She's a Goth so this is like her favorite holiday of the whole year. When I first started working at NCIS she used to invite me every year to go to parties with her. She finally gave up. My idea of a happy Halloween is sitting in my living room with my feet up, eating pizza and watching movies."

"Sounds like the perfect night to me," Dean said with a sigh.

"Yeah well it's pretty rare that I even get Halloween night off. I'm just lucky that my boss pulled us off weekend duty this year. Otherwise I'd be out there in the thick of it," Tony gave a dramatic shudder.

"Dude, I can't remember the last time I didn't have to work on Halloween night. This is pretty rare for me too," Dean replied.

Tony looked at his watch and sat up, causing Dean to look at him curiously. "Thought you said you were off today."

"I am. But I just remembered that our cars are still at Joey's place. It's gonna be dark soon, why don't we head over there, bring them back and then settle down with some pizza before all the crazies come out?"

"Deal," Dean said, rising from the sofa and immediately going for his keys. Having a nice quite night in sounded like the best idea in the world.

When they got to the bar about 20 minutes later, Dean saw that the place was deserted, the gate still locked tight and only their two cars in the lot.

"Wow, he opens late," Dean remarked as Tony opened the gate and let them both inside.

"Nah, Joey never opens on Halloween."

"Seriously? This has gotta be one of the biggest nights of the year for a place like this."

"You're probably right, but Joey won't do it."

"Why?"

"Not sure, I think he's superstitious or something," Tony shrugged.

As they walked to their respective cars, Dean paused as an idea came to mind.

"So let me get this straight. This place is closed tonight. No one will be here?"

"Yep," Tony replied, not sure where Dean was going with his line of questioning.

"So we have the place to ourselves? A pool table, a nice media room with a big screen TV, not to mention snacks and booze?"

Tony's face broke into a wide grin as he realized the implications of what Dean was saying. His own place was nice but his apartment had nothing on Joey's place. They could stay there all night, have a great time and never have to worry about dealing with anything having to do with Halloween. Tony would keep track of everything they ate and drank and pay Joey later. He knew the bar owner wouldn't mind at all, especially since Tony had closed up the place himself a time or two.

"Dean Winchester, you are a freaking genius," Tony said, clapping the other man on the shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze. He pulled the chain and padlock back through the gate and locked it once again, ensuring that no one would be able to come in and spoil their fun. When he was done they walked to the entrance to the bar and he unlocked the door, letting them both in and turning on the lights.

Tony and Dean looked around them, smiling like children who'd just come down the stairs on Christmas morning to find their favorite toys under the tree.

"Best Halloween ever?" Dean asked, cocking his head to the side as Tony grinned back happily.

"Best Halloween ever."

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_Well I hope y'all liked that. Next chapter will be up tomorrow and don't forget to check out my blog (link at my profile page). There's no new NCIS for me to review this week but there's plenty more for me to review. I just added a new post about last week's Dollhouse and I hear it's gonna be a very special Halloween ep of Castle tonight so stay tuned for that review too. ;o)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the reviews and alerts, etc. You guys are the best and I'm happy to see that so many people are enjoying this story. _

_-Moki_

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Chapter Three

"_You've got to be kidding me…" _

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The "best Halloween ever" got started early for the two men who wanted nothing to do with the holiday. The sun was still an hour or so away from setting as Tony locked the door behind them, ready to wait out the night in Joey's place. Tony silently thanked their lucky stars that they were tucked safely inside as he heard yet another car of revelers go driving past honking their horns.

"Nutjobs," he mumbled, shaking his head and putting the keys back in his pocket as he turned away from the door.

Dean poured them both a beer, sliding one across the counter to Tony as he settled himself into the seat next to the other man. They were sitting at the bar relaxing when Tony suddenly jumped off his barstool with a purpose.

"'sup?" Dean asked.

"You wanna eat? Joey's got more than just peanuts and snack mix. How about some hot wings and pizza?"

Never one to turn down that combo, Dean nodded enthusiastically. "Hell yeah, bring it on, DiNozzo."

Tony went past the bar to the small kitchen behind it, pushing the swinging door with one hand while he flipped the light switch on with the other. He knew for a fact that Joey bought all his stuff pre-made and mostly just threw things on the grill or in the fryer, sometimes heating them up in the oven. At first, Joey had been afraid to tell Tony (one of his favorite customers) his secrets. But after a really bad case, Tony had been so melancholy that Joey had decided to drag the younger man back to the kitchen. The old barkeep figured that a busy man was less likely to be haunted by his job and put the federal agent to work. As it turned out, Tony had a natural knack at the grill and fryer and hadn't been at all put off when he'd found out most of the food wasn't homemade.

"Joey," Tony had declared as he expertly flipped a burger, all vestiges of worry gone from his face after only an hour behind the grill. "I couldn't care less where or how this stuff is made. All I care is that it tastes damn good when it hits my plate out there."

With a few flicks of switches, Tony now had the equipment warming up that he needed. Going to the freezer he pulled out the chicken wings and a large pizza covered with "everything but the kitchen sink" (as was declared on its garish wrapping). While he was rooting around, Tony spied something that made his stomach rumble happily in anticipation.

"Hey Dean!" Tony called.

"Yo!" came the reply from the other side of the door.

"You want pie for dessert?"

Dean grinned wide, pie just happened to be his favorite dessert in the whole wide world. Pretty much any pie would do but if it was apple, he was gonna be really happy.

"What kind?" Dean called through the door.

"Apple!"

"Awesome!"

Tony took that as a "yes", chuckling as he pulled the pan out of the freezer and set it out to defrost. By the time they were finished with dinner, the pie would be perfect.

While his buddy was busy in the kitchen, Dean took the opportunity to wander around the place. He found the pool cues for the table and a closer inspection behind the bar led him to a key that unlocked the cabinet where the balls were kept. When he found a box of darts, he pulled those out too. Now that he knew what Tony did for a living, he was curious to see which of them was the better shot – the man trained by his father or the one trained as a federal agent. Darts may not be guns but good aim was good aim and Dean had a feeling he may habe found a worthy adversary.

In his wanderings, Dean found the side room with the big screen TV and couches. It was down a small hallway on the way to the bathrooms and separated from the main part of the bar by thick velvet curtains. Deciding that the couches looked like they needed a test drive, Dean went inside. Sitting down with a happy groan, he put his feet up on the small table nearby. He had just relaxed fully when he heard his name being called.

"Hey, Winchester! Food is ready!"

Dean Winchester did not need to be called to dinner twice. Jumping up, he nearly ran out of the room and his pace only quickened as he caught a whiff of what Tony was carrying.

"Pizza and wings to start, the pie is still defrosting," Tony said, putting the pizza on the bar.

"Wow man, did anyone ever tell you that you're gonna make someone a great wife someday? All you need is an apron," Dean said with a smirk.

As he walked around the bar to his seat, Tony unthinkingly slapped Dean across the back of the head in response to the snide comment. Too many years spent working for Gibbs (and training the Probie) and it was instinctual. He didn't even realize he'd done it right away.

"Hey!" Dean replied and without hesitating, smacked Tony right back.

As he realized what he'd done, Tony laughed. In all the years he'd been headsmacked and headmacked the Probie, usually no one was ballsy enough to slap back. Tony kind of like it.

"Well maybe you'll watch your mouth next time, Winchester," Tony said, sitting down and shoving a slice of pizza in his mouth.

"Yeah and maybe next time I'll kick your ass, DiNozzo," Dean replied without rancor, grabbing a hot wing and shoving it in his own mouth.

Once the hot wings and pizza had disappeared, Tony got out the pie. Despite the amount of food they'd already consumed, they were able to finish the whole thing between the two of them. Though Tony was pretty sure that his new friend had eaten most of it. Apparently Dean hadn't been lying when he'd announced that pie his favorite dessert as Tony laid it out in front of him.

"Oh man, I think I'm gonna barf," Dean said after every morsel of food set before him had been annihilated. He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his stomach lightly.

Tony laughed and hopped off his stool. "Not so fast, I seem to recall _someone_ challenging me to a game of darts."

Thirty minutes later the two foes were locked in battle. Dean had started out strong but Tony was gaining fast, wracking up points left and right. The final few rounds had each of them screaming and jumping up and down in excitement, but in the end it was Tony who beat Dean by a smidge. His final throw was such a beautiful, perfect bullseye that he jumped up in triumph.

"Ha! Take that Winchester!" Tony said happily, practically dancing as he rubbed the other man's face in his loss.

"Bitch," Dean said automatically. Tony was acting so much like his little brother that Dean didn't realize he'd even switched into big brother mode. He may not exactly be missing his brother at the moment, but he did miss the banter they used to have before Hell had (quite literally) broken loose.

"Asshole," Tony replied without hesitation.

Dean barked in laughter and surprise, nearly choking on his beer. In all the years he and his brother had done that particular routine, not once had Sam ever come back with _that_ response. Dean kind of like it.

The pool game went much the same as the dart game had. Each man discovered an admirable opponent in the other, making the contest a lot more fun for both of them. Other than Sam, Dean hadn't met many who could give him competition like Tony was.

Tony's thoughts were running along the same lines as he lined up another shot. Dean was ahead, but he was hoping to catch up with a tricky shot he'd learned from Gibbs. It wasn't often that Tony talked his boss into playing pool with him, but when he did he found out what it was like to get beat. He'd never thought he'd meet another rival up to his standard. Not until he started playing Dean.

In the end, Dean won the game and the two men declared the night even with one victory and one loss for each. After the friendly game (except of course for the shit-talking, an important part of any pool game), Dean put down his cue and finished that last of his beer.

"Alright, now that we've worked off dinner, how about we go hit those comfy couches and watch a flick?"

"Sounds like a plan," Tony agreed, putting down his own cue and taking his unfinished beer with him.

Tony had watched a few movies back there and soon enough had the TV set on and working. Joey mostly had sports films on DVD so they picked "Major League". Tony had almost suggested they watch "Field Of Dreams" but then though better of it. That flick never failed to make him cry at the end and while that was fine in front of a chick (the most popular response being a very nice form of "comfort" that Tony didn't mind at all), he had no intention of crying in front of Dean.

When Dean saw Tony's hand pause over "Field Of Dreams" he stiffened, hoping the other man wouldn't choose it. He sighed silently in relief when Tony chose the comedy baseball movie instead. Crying in front of chicks was one thing (and something that often got him lucky), but he had no intention of doing that in front of Tony.

"Put it on pause for a second," Dean said when Tony had put the DVD into the player. "I gotta hit the head."

"No problem," Tony replied. "You want another beer?"

"Sure."

Tony was headed towards the bar and Dean was halfway to the bathroom when every light in the place started flickering. Dean couldn't help the way his body tensed automatically. Too many times had flickering lights meant more than simply an electrical problem. But he forced himself to relax. The bar was an old place, the wiring was bound to be less than stellar.

Besides, Dean thought to himself, what were the chances that he'd end up on a hunt? Out of all the places in the world, something would attack there? Right where Dean Winchester just so happened to be visiting a friend? Nah, it wasn't possible.

Dean shrugged off the momentary rush of adrenaline and continued to the head. When he got back, Tony was cursing at the television, slapping it on the side with one hand and still holding a beer in the other.

Grabbing another brew from the table, Dean sat down with a laugh. "You know man, you keep hitting it like that, it's not gonna work at all."

"Stupid thing keeps flashing. It's making me nuts. I swear it's never done this before."

Once again the lights flashed and this time the TV joined in too. Shaking his head, Dean tried to laugh it off again.

Right up until he heard the voice.

Tony didn't notice. He was still busy slapping the set and putting together a string of curses that would make any sailor proud. Since Tony worked with the Navy, Dean thought, that wasn't too surprising.

Only Dean noticed that between the flashes and underneath the flipping image, something else could be heard. Unfortunately, a very familiar something. Something he had been really hoping to avoid for once on this stupid holiday.

Dean muttered under his breath, unable to believe his absolutely rotten luck.

"You've got to be kidding me…"


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi folks!_

_Sorry for not updating yesterday but I had a bout of food poisoning that had me down for the count for most of the day. But better late than never, eh?_

_-Moki_

---------------

Chapter Four

"_Alright, so what's next?"_

----------------------

Dean calmly sipped his beer as the opening credits started up and Tony sat back in his own chair with a happy moan.

"Now this is how you spend Halloween," Tony said happily, taking another sip of his beer.

Dean nodded, holding his bottle up in a mock salute. He waited until the other man became engrossed in the film, then started taking a surreptitious look around the room. Near as Dean could tell, the voice that came through the set was an EVP and he wanted to see if he could spot the source.

Electronic Voice Phenomena didn't usually manifest that strongly but Dean was sure he heard what he heard. He hadn't caught the words but the meaning was clear enough – "_get out"_. Why were ghosts always saying the same old thing? Year after year, case after case, it was always basically the same message. Then again, it might be boring but it was also strangely effective. Any normal person hearing their TV (or any other electronic device that managed to catch the EVP) tell them to get out, usually did jus that.

Dean Winchester was different. That was usually the point where he entered a room. But now things were different. With Tony there Dean didn't want to do what he normally did. Not that he didn't think that Tony could handle himself in a fight, in fact Dean was sure that wouldn't be problem. No, what the hunter was more worried about was giving himself away, letting the other man into a part of his world that he was currently doing everything in his power to forget existed. One of the reasons he had called Tony in the first place was that he was the one person Dean could hang out with and _not_ have to talk about this stuff. And yet here it was, rearing its ugly head as it were and making it next to impossible for one Dean Winchester to enjoy a peaceful evening.

Deciding that he needed to get more information about what he was dealing with, Dean got up to investigate further.

"You hitting the head again? You know, it might be time for a prostate exam," Tony laughed from his chair.

"Funny, jackhole. Nah, I'm hungry. Gonna scrounge up some peanuts or something. You want anything?"

"Sure, bring back whatever you find."

Once out of the small TV room, Dean looked around the bar to see if he could find any evidence of what was there with them. A small sign on the wall stating _"Joe Blow died here violently and is buried out back"_ would have been nice, but at this point the hunter was ready to settle for just about anything.

Looking around the entire place, including the small kitchen in back, Dean was crestfallen to find nothing. Not one note, dedication, plaque – nothing announcing that a person close to the bar or its owners had lost their life in a tragic way.

Which meant that whatever it was, was probably older than the bar itself and precisely what Dean was hoping to avoid. Wanting to get a few supplies from his car, Dean silently went to the front door of the place. Unbolting the lock as silently as he could, he snuck out to the parking lot. As he walked outside, he noticed that the sun must have set a few minutes before.

It was the sight of the red sky turning to black that reminded him once again what night it was. Dean may hate Halloween, but unfortunately he knew everything there was to know about it. He knew its history, when it began, the traditions of various countries and how they celebrated it. He even knew when it officially started.

Sundown.

A hunter such as himself didn't believe in coincidences. You couldn't in his job. Too many things were tied together when dealing with the supernatural. Things had a way of happening for a reason, no matter how random it seemed sometimes. And when things weren't random, they were frighteningly arranged. Deaths happened according to certain clocks and with the types of creatures and beings he fought, those clocks were often based on nature itself. Moon cycles, tides, summer and winter solstices – all of it added up.

So as Dean trotted back to the door of the bar with a couple duffle bags full of weapons and other supplies, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the EVP presenting itself at sunset on Halloween was no accident. He also knew that the owner of the bar didn't close his business on a prime money-making night due to superstition. Joey must have seen something. He may not have understood it and he may have been too embarrassed to tell Tony, but he saw it.

Usually Dean walked into a case with some information. Newspaper articles telling of vicious killings, when they happened, who they happened to, etc. This time he was going in blind. Not often did a case just pop up around him, but Dean knew how to think on the fly. He would deal with it, just like he always did.

Still keeping up with the charade that everything was fine, Dean went back to the room. On the way he grabbed a few bags of snacks to dispel any suspicion. As it turned out, he needn't have worried about the subterfuge. When he opened the curtain he found Tony snoozing in his chair with his feet up on the table. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Dean went back to work.

Getting out his EMF, Dean began a sweep. Usually when one found Electronic Voice Phenomena, one also found variations in the electromagnetic fields too. But as Dean ran the meter over the entire place, he found nothing unusual. Putting down the device, he stopped and thought for a minute.

No EMF readings could mean a couple things. It could mean it actually wasn't a spirit (not possible, given the existence of EVP). Or it could mean that the spirit wasn't always active.

Choice number two was the more likely and also the more annoying of the two. It meant that he wouldn't be able to use the meter to get any sort of warning when the thing was going to present itself. Putting away the meter with a sigh, Dean thought about his options.

The first thing he wanted to do was make up some lame-ass excuse and just get Tony out of there. But as part of his reason for not telling Tony was so that the other man could enjoy his evening, that wasn't going to work. The other option was to simply wait for the thing to appear, then give it a hit with some salt to knock it out of commission for the night. Then he could always stick around town, do a little research to figure out what the thing was and destroy it properly.

The more Dean thought about it, the more that sounded like a plan. Hell, if he played his cards right, he might even be able to finish watching the rest of the movie and Tony would sleep through the whole thing.

Oh yes, this was so going to work.

Not wanting to risk the sound of a sawed-off shotgun (Dean doubted Tony was _that_ deep of a sleeper), Dean pulled out a can of rock salt. Walking around the bar he turned out nearly every light and then sat down in the dark to wait. A dark and silent room should be too much for any normal spirit to resist. It wouldn't be long before something happened.

As it turned out, he was half right.

About fifteen minutes after Dean sat down, something did indeed happen. Trouble was it didn't happen in the room where he was sitting. Along with dark and silence, the other thing most spirits couldn't resist was a sleeping person. They were almost drawn to them, seeking them out, either to communicate or attack (depending on the spirit).

As he heard a crash and a startled yell come from the back room, Dean wanted to kick himself. He should have known damn well that the thing might go after Tony.

Running into the room, Dean flung open the curtain to find Tony on the ground. A misty haze had manifested above him, its shape almost human but not quite. Tony's eyes were wide with shock and his hands were trying to bat away at the thing. Dean watched in horror as it began wrapping itself around the other man's throat.

"Hey!" Dean screamed. A face materialized in the air above his friend. It hissed and spat at him before turning its attention back to Tony as Dean raised the gun he had snatched from his bag. Taking aim he let loose with two rounds of rocksalt buckshot, shattering the figure into a moist white cloud that dissipated a moment later.

Running over to the man on the floor, Dean put down his gun and helped Tony to sit up.

"You okay?"

Tony sat up slowly, looking around him in confusion. One minute he'd been enjoying the movie and the next he'd woken up in the midst of a nightmare. Sure that he couldn't possibly have seen what he thought he just had, Tony shook his head.

"Yeah I'm fine. I think I may cut back on the hot wings next time though. You would not believe the dream I just had."

Dean helped Tony to his feet, wishing he could let the other man continue to believe what had just occurred was a bad dream. Dean lived it and it was still a bad dream to him sometimes.

But now that he knew the thing was targeting Tony, Dean knew he had to let the other man in on what was going on. Tony's safety now depended on him knowing the truth, no matter how much Dean didn't want to tell it to him. Nor how much Tony may not want to hear it once Dean did.

"About that…..listen, we need to talk. You remember that family business I was telling you about earlier?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this is it."

"What is it?"

"What you just saw."

"What I just saw was a dream."

"No, it wasn't."

"What, so you're trying to tell me that not only do ghosts really exist but there's one here in this bar tonight, on Halloween of all nights, and it's trying to kill me?"

"Yep, that pretty much covers it."

"Okay now I think that maybe you were the one who had too many hot wings." Tony said with a short bark of laughter, shaking his head at his friend's lunacy.

"Look man, I'd love nothing more than to tell you that this was all a dream but I can't. That thing came after you for a reason and until I know why, you're not safe."

Tony opened his mouth to argue further but stopped when he saw the look in Dean's eyes. Once again his years of experience as an interrogator came in to play as he studied the man in front of him. No signs of deception were evident anywhere on the other man's features. No nervous twitches, no avoiding eye contact, not even any suppressed laughter suggesting that it was all a big joke. If Tony were sitting on the other side of the glass from the guy, he'd swear to anyone in the control room that the suspect was telling the truth.

As Tony realized that the other man wasn't lying, he silently turned around and walked back to his chair. What he'd just heard was a lot to take in and slowly sitting down, he looked up at Dean.

"You're not screwing with me are you?" Tony asked quietly.

"Nope." Dean replied, once again without any hint of humor in the statement.

"So it's real?"

"Yep."

Taking but a single moment to take it all in, the agent took a breath, straightened his shoulders and stood back up.

"Alright, so what's next?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi folks!_

_Sorry for the delay on this chapter but I'm still woefully behind on everything. I didn't want to delay this one anymore so I had to rush it and didn't even get a chance to send it to my beta. So any mistakes are all mine. _

_Just one more, possibly two, chapters to go but either way, I promise the ending will be up tomorrow as promised. _

_-Moki_

Chapter Five

"_Dig up the body and burn the bones."_

---------------------------------

"Alright, so what's next?"

After Tony asked the question, Dean found himself studying the other man before answering.

In Dean Winchester's experience there were only a few ways that people reacted when they finally found out the truth about what was really happening in the world. Occasionally in his job, Dean had to let people in on the secret in order to save their own skins. When he did, he watched with fascination as they dealt with it. He found it fascinating mostly because he couldn't remember going through the process himself. The job and the life behind it had been a part of his life for almost as long as he could remember. He'd never had the luxury of being shocked about it.

Most people went straight to denial and, from there, to fear. That was pretty much S.O.P.

Rarely, he'd find people who went from denial to anger.

Even more rarely he'd find people who went from denial to apathy. They'd simply give up, decide that whatever creature was out there was going to kill them no matter what and that was that.

Dean was taken aback when he saw that Tony DiNozzo had gone straight from denial to acceptance. He didn't see that one very much.

After finding out that the strange thing floating above him and trying to squeeze the life out of his lungs was in fact not a figment of his imagination, Tony's next order of business was to find out how to deal with it. Dealing with people who wanted to kill him was almost a daily part of his job. Actually it was definitely a daily part of his job if you counted his boss, who usually wanted to kill Tony at least once in a 24 hour period. A killer spirit really wasn't all that frightening when compared to Gibbs – especially a Gibbs without his morning coffee.

"What's next DiNozzo is you getting the hell out of here so I can deal with this thing," Dean replied finally, never comfortable with having a civilian around when he had to do a job. No matter how well trained that person may be, there was just nothing to prepare one for dealing with the things he did. Learning to protect yourself from people trying to kill you wasn't the same as preparing for a ghost trying to do the same thing. Ghosts and other supernatural creatures had rules all their own; which is to say that they didn't really have any.

Most of the creatures Dean dealt with didn't have to worry about continuing to live another day. They didn't react the way humans did when under attack. You could count on people to duck when you shot at them, the same couldn't necessarily be said with something that was already dead.

The last thing Dean wanted was to give a supernatural hunting lesson that night. It was bad enough that once again his evening was being ruined by one of the things, he'd be damned if he let it ruin Tony's as well.

Tony frowned at Dean. He never liked being handled with kid gloves when he was perfectly capable of handing a situation.

"Hey, don't treat me like a child. I can handle myself and you know it."

"Listen, I'm sure you can handle yourself fine when it comes to a regular firefight. Trouble is this is gonna be anything _but _a regular firefight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that this thing isn't gonna bleed when you shoot it. I may have knocked it out of commission for a little while, but it'll be back and when it does come back, it'll be pissed."

"And what, you want me to leave you alone to deal with it?"

Dean started walking away, going back to the bags of supplies he'd left in the other room. Tony followed right behind, not letting it drop.

"C'mon man, you can't expect me to leave you here without backup."

Dean paused as he went to unzip the largest of the two duffles he'd brought from the Impala. Tony's words struck a chord with him. It was something he'd expect his brother to say. It was also something he would've said, not just to his brother but to anyone. Being trained by a Marine meant that Dean Winchester had a steadfast rule about not leaving a man behind. Leaving one without backup was basically the same thing. Why should he be surprised that DiNozzo, also trained by a Marine, would feel the same way?

Tony could see that the other man was thinking things over and for once in his life, actually kept his mouth shut. Maybe all the headslaps from Gibbs had finally gotten through to him, but rather than running off at the mouth (which was his modus operandi too often), he decided to wait and see what Dean would say. One thing he knew for sure is that he wasn't going to go waltzing out of the place and leave Dean alone to deal with whatever it was. It may have been Tony's first time at this particular rodeo, but he knew danger when he saw it. That thing had stared him down with death in its eyes (if you could call them that) and Tony wanted to make sure it was stopped.

As Dean thought about it, he realized that having Tony stick around could actually be useful. The agent knew not only the place, but the owner. Maybe the other man could provide some valuable intell that would help them kill it.

"Alright DiNozzo, you can stick around," Dean held up his finger as Tony started grinning. "But, you follow my orders, got it? In this game I'm the head honcho."

"No problem, I can handle that," Tony replied. "So what's first?"

"First, you tell me everything that you know about this place."

Tony proceeded to tell the other man everything he'd gathered from hanging out at the joint since he'd arrived at NCIS. He'd found it one night after a grueling case and it had seemed like the perfect place to have a few beers and decompress. Unfortunately, he could remember nothing interesting about it. It was a bar, what else was there know?

"Sorry, man," Tony said, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know what else to say. It's not like I've been keeping an eye out for anything going bump in the night, you know?"

Before Dean could answer a shape materialized behind Tony's right shoulder.

"Down!" Dean screamed and Tony was on the floor in an instant, the creature once again going straight for him. Tony held up his hands to defend himself, but as they went straight through the thing, it didn't do much good.

Dean readied his shotgun, but held his fire, unable to get a good shot that wouldn't also injure the agent.

"Tony! Roll right!"

Tony DiNozzo didn't question orders like that, he just followed. Rolling to the side, he heard the blast from the shotgun and even felt the wind of the pellets as they flew past. The creature was faster though, scooting out of the way and right back to the fallen man.

"What is your problem?" Tony growled as he felt the thing going for his neck again. Still trying to fight it off, he rolled around in vain. Belatedly, he realized that Dean had a point. Fighting something that wasn't human was not as easy as it sounded.

Watching the creature go after Tony, Dean stood by helplessly. He couldn't shoot and right now, rocksalt was their only defense with his back on the other side of the room and a pissed off ghost between him and it.

Turning around frantically, Dean spotted the small fireplace near the pool and suddenly had an idea.

"DiNozzo! Fireplace!"

Tony had gotten used to following Dean's orders but admittedly that one caught him off guard. As he lay there with cold fingers tightening themselves around his neck, he wasn't sure what the other man meant. Stay away from the fireplace? Go for a weapon in the fireplace?

"Get behind the damn gate!"

What Tony didn't know was that iron was another ghost deterrent and Dean had spotted the iron gate on the old fireplace. The hunter knew that if the other man got the gate in between him and the ghost, it would have the same effect as the rocksalt.

With a much clearer instruction to guide him this time, Tony ignored the spots floating in front of his eyes from lack of oxygen and began crawling. He had no idea how it was going to help, but at this point he was ready to try just about anything.

Pulling the thing with him, Tony got himself onto the hearth. Still unable to breathe, he crawled towards the grate and threw himself behind it.

With a whoosh, the spirit dissipated above him and Tony expanded his aching lungs with a gasp. Dean was there a second later, helping him sit up and catch his breath.

"Okay, what is up with that bitch?" Tony croaked out when his body had ingested enough oxygen to speak.

"Actually, I got a better look at it this time. I think it's more like a bastard."

"Oh. Okay then what is up with that bastard?"

"I don't know, but he sure doesn't like you much."

"Ya think?" Tony asked in exasperation as Dean gave him a hand to his feet.

"You sure you don't know anything more about this place? See anything weird while you were around?"

Tony thought about that for a while, but once again, nothing came to mind. He shook his head sadly.

"Okay, what about this guy, Joey? What do you know about him?"

"Joey? He's as cool as they come. Great guy."

"Yeah, but what's his story? Like why doesn't he open the place on Halloween?"

Tony tried to remember the conversation he'd had with the bar owner about that subject.

"I'm not sure……uh, I think he said something about kids. That he couldn't do it because of the kids."

"What kids?"

Searching his memory, Tony tried to find the moment when he and Joey had discussed it. Trouble was that Tony didn't like the damn holiday, so he hadn't really cared much why Joey didn't open the bar that night. At best, it might have been a passing conversation. Still, he kept searching through his memories.

"Wait," Tony said finally. "Maybe it wasn't 'kids'…..maybe it was 'kid'. No wait, he said he didn't do it because of his kid."

"His kid? Joey has a son?"

"Had. Boy died about twenty years ago. Really tragic, apparently he was coming home from a Halloween party and got slammed by a drunk driver. Poor kid was only eighteen."

As Dean heard the all too familiar tale, he knew they had their culprit. He thought about ragging on Tony for not coming up with the story sooner but could hardly blame the guy. Not everyone was on the lookout for the kind of crap he was. How could DiNozzo know then that he'd need to remember all those facts one day?

Also, though they may have figured out who it was. The question as to why it was going after Tony was another mystery altogether. Unless….

"Hey, you hang out here a lot, right?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Yeah…" Tony was puzzled.

"You and Joey are close?"

"I guess you could say that."

"And he's taken you behind the bar, shown you how to do a few things. Given you keys and everything?"

"Yeah."

"Well I think I know why this spirit is pissed at you. Apparently he's jealous that you're taking his place with his dad."

"What?" Tony was surprised. Sure he liked Joey, but he'd never thought of him as that close. If anyone was bucking for replacement father material, it was Gibbs. "No way, we're not even that close."

"Look, spirits don't see things in gray. It's all black and white with them. You're about the same age as he would be if he lived, you're around here a lot and Joey likes you. Believe me that can be more than enough."

"But why come after me now? I'm here all the freaking time."

"Halloween is when he died so this must be the only night he's active."

Tony had heard too many strange things that night to argue with that logic. In fact, he'd pretty much decided a while ago to throw logic out the window. Might as well keep going along.

"Okay so _now_ what do we do?" Tony asked with a touch of frustration. Learning how to get rid of a ghost wasn't half as much fun when you knew that its intent was to kill you, and only you.

Dean gave Tony a look that let him know that whatever the other man was about to say, Tony was sure he was not going to like it.

"Dig up the body and burn the bones."


	6. Chapter 6

_Here it is folks, the final chapter. Hope y'all enjoy it and everyone has a safe and happy Halloween. I'm off to finish up my Abby costume and get ready for my party. _

_-Moki_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Chapter Six

"_Next time, I get to pick the bar."_

--------------------------

"We have to do _what_?" Tony couldn't believe his ears. Just when he thought he couldn't get more surprised by his new friend, he'd learn something new.

"Burn the bones. It takes away their power and sends them……well, we're not really sure where it sends them, but we hope it's to rest in peace like they're supposed to in the first place."

Tony ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. He'd lost track of how many times that night he'd had to ignore his gut and go with whatever Dean told him. There was no reason he couldn't do it again. With a sigh, he asked another question. The answer to which he already dreaded.

"And how exactly do we do that?"

"How do you think, DiNozzo? We find out where he's buried, dig him up and set fire to the corpse."

"Yeah, that's what I thought you were gonna say."

"So you got any ideas on where this kid is buried?"

"No, not really. I mean Joey's lived here all his life and there's really only one cemetery nearby so that's probably where he's gotta be."

"Alright, let's head out." Dean said, crossing to the other side of the room in a few quick strides and grabbing his bags. "We'll take the Impala. All my gear's in there."

Dean gave Tony another briefing on what his job would be when they got to the graveyard. The hunter decided that the safest method would be to have them both take turns shoveling while the other covered with the shotgun. Then once the body was exposed, Dean would continue covering while Tony poured on the gas and lit the fire. Spirits got especially nasty when they realized why you were at their graves and judging by how ornery this one already was, Dean was sure it was gonna give them quite the fight in the end. Since Dean obviously had more experience, he was better prepared to fight thing off while Tony set the fire.

Tony directed Dean to the cemetery and as they pulled up, the hunter was grateful to see no other cars in the lot. Halloween night saw many people gathering in cemeteries, looking for ghosts, having parties, etc. He was glad they wouldn't have to deal with that extra headache.

After they parked, Dean opened the trunk and began handing gear to Tony. Once they had everything they needed, they both took out their flashlights and began walking.

"Hey Dean?" Tony had been quite for a while, determined to follow instructions as he'd been told. Now his curiosity got the better of him. "How exactly do you know where his grave is?" The agent wondered if there was some secret supernatural way of finding a gravesite. Maybe he'd get to see Dean do a ritual or something.

"We look, DiNozzo," Dean replied, indicating the place with his light.

Tony laughed at himself and shook his head. Perhaps hunting ghosts could be a bit on the mundane side too.

"We have to hurry though," Dean added as both of them swept their lights back and forth looking for the stone with Joey's last name on it.

"Why?"

"This creep is attached to Halloween night, the one night of the year where even normal people believe in the supernatural. All the legends are based in reality and the 'dead walking the earth' part? It's pretty close to the truth."

"Great, what does that mean?"

"You ever heard the term 'The Witching Hour'?"

"Yeah, I think so. Don't know what it means though."

"It's the time of night where the supernatural is its most powerful, closest to the living, and all that crap. It happens every night of the year and depending upon which lore you read, it can either mean midnight or somewhere around 2am. The Witching Hour on Halloween is particularly potent for paranormal activity."

Tony looked down at his watch and saw that it was close to 11:45pm. If Dean was right, that meant that they had about fifteen minutes until things could get very interesting.

"So this thing is gonna be even more powerful?"

"Yeah but not just that one, we may end up with a few others around too. None of them will be happy to see us."

"Sounds like fun," Tony replied. "Whattya say we find this grave, like, now?"

Dean agreed and they both began looking in earnest. Thankfully the place wasn't overly large and it only took about five minutes before Tony spotted the familiar name on a stone. He hadn't remembered Joey's son's name, but the birth and death years were right. This had to be it. Tony called to Dean and the hunter ran over immediately. Pulling out a folding shovel, Tony did as he'd been told and started digging.

While the other man began the backbreaking process of digging all the way down to the coffin, Dean armed himself with one of the shotguns loaded with rocksalt and stood guard. To keep the pace as fast as possible he made Tony stop to rest only five minutes later and jumped into the hole. As Dean took his turn, Tony covered him with the shotgun.

Holding the butt of the shotgun tight under his arm, Tony held the other end of it along with a flashlight. Constantly moving back and forth, he kept an eye out. How he was supposed to look for something that was all but invisible, Tony didn't know, but he was giving it a shot. Looking down at his watch, he realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight.

"DiNozzo," Dean was suddenly at Tony's side, wiping his forehead and handing over the shovel. Tony jumped in to the much deeper hole this time and got to work.

Dean had looked at his watch too. Midnight had come and gone, but nothing had appeared yet. Dean had a moment of hope that perhaps this job would go smoothly.

Unfortunately, ghosts weren't always exactly on time. Tony had just scraped wood with his shovel when they were attacked. Dean saw it first, not being stuck inside the hole. As he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, his raised the gun and fired. Whatever it was dissipated, but there were many more behind it.

"DiNozzo!" Dean called. "You're gonna have to finish on your own. We've got company!"

The instruction was unnecessary. The moment Tony had heard the gunfire, he began digging with a vengeance. When he had scraped off most of the dirt from the coffin, he went after it with his hands, pushing the last of it away to expose the latches on the side. Above the agent, blasts from the shotgun and various curses from Dean could be heard. Tony had to fight with himself not to try and help, but he'd been given very strict orders. His job was to burn the bones, no matter what he heard.

Dean had already re-loaded the shotgun a couple times and still the things came after them. None appeared to be the occupant of the grave, meaning that it was probably biding its time and hoping they would be weakened by the onslaught from everything else.

Pulling out a few more slugs, Dean paused for another second to re-load once again. He was just a touch slower than last time and it was the opportunity the spirit had been waiting for. Before the hunter could raise his weapon, the thing materialized directly behind him and with an unworldly growl, threw him into the nearest tree. Slamming into the trunk headfirst, Dean was out cold before his body hit the ground.

Tony heard the growl and recognized it as their ghostly friend from the bar. Strange to think that he could recognize a ghost's "voice", but he figured the two of them had grown close in the two times the thing had tried to strangle the life out of him. He had already exposed the body and poured on the gas, he was about to light it when he heard another noise.

The sound of a body being slammed into something, hard.

"Dean!" Tony yelled, unable to help himself, he popped his head out of the grave. What he saw made his heart drop. The hunter's body was lying at the base of a nearby tree and he wasn't moving.

Forgetting about the fire, the ghost, everything but the fact that his partner was down, Tony vaulted out of the hole. He had barely gone two steps when the thing threw him to the ground. The agent guessed that the spirit must have gained some strength as he felt the new sensation of claws digging deep into his leg. He yelled in pain and shock before ghostly hands began to choke him.

Tony found himself on his back and though he was once again going without air, looked up almost curiously at the thing above him. Not only did he feel the ghost's new strength, he saw it too. He was suddenly looking straight into the eyes of evil. Evil that was masking itself inside a young boy. Tony knew that in life this kid had probably been a great guy. Joey was a great guy. There was no way his kid wouldn't be. How could a nice person become such a horrible thing?

If either of them lived through the night, Tony decided that would be something he would ask Dean.

_Then again, living the next few minutes may not exactly be an option, DiNozzo_. Tony though to himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a breath and could feel his body starting to lose consciousness. As his world started to go black, Tony had a strange fleeting thought.

_What in the world is Gibbs gonna think when he finds my body in a grave yard?_

Right before the lights turned off completely, Tony heard a new sound. It was an awful screeching and it sounded like a creature in agony. Since that pretty much described how he felt, for a moment Tony wondered if it was him making the noise. Logically he knew that he shouldn't be able to make a sound (that was one of drawbacks to getting choked to death), but his brain wasn't really working at full capacity right then.

That's when Tony felt the pressure ease up, just a little. As he looked once again into the face above him, he saw it fade. It screamed and writhed in agony and as Tony watched, flames danced around the edges of its form. With a final explosion of fire and smoke, the thing was gone.

Tony finally let in the blackness that had been creeping around the edges of his vision, his head dropping to the ground. Before the darkness took him fully though, Tony felt someone grip him tight and a voice swam its way into his senses.

"Oh no you don't, DiNozzo. There's no way I'm gonna end up explaining all this to your boss. You wake up, you here me?"

Tony felt light slapping on his face and came to with a painful gasp, his lungs feeling like they'd nearly forgotten what it was like to take in air.

Crouching above the other man, Dean watched in relief as Tony's lungs expanded and he began breathing deeply. Tapping him lightly on the shoulder, Dean allowed himself to plop onto the ground, exhausted.

"Just keep breathing, buddy."

When Dean had regained consciousness at the foot of the tree, he'd been horrified to see how close the ghost was to killing Tony. Not wasting any time, the hunter had dived into the grave and set the corpse on fire, grateful that Tony had done everything up to that point.

Dean hated to think what would have happened if he hadn't gotten there in time or if Tony hadn't gotten all the way to the casket and poured the gas. Just a few more moments and Dean was sure he would have been attending the other man's funeral. Which also meant that he would have had to meet Tony's boss and explain to him how he'd let the other man die. From what Dean had gathered about Gibbs, that was one conversation he most certainly wanted to avoid.

When both of the men had gained enough strength, they stood on shaky legs. Not wanting Joey to see his son's grave in its current state, they covered it up as best they could before heading back to the car. Luckily every creature around must have decided not to mess with the corpse burning duo and they were left alone.

Back at Tony's place, they got busy cleaning up patching up their wounds. Dean cleaned off Tony's leg, wrapping it tight to keep from bleeding.

"Ow," Tony said in surprise at the hunter's vehemence. "That hurts."

"Good," Dean replied, tying off the bandage and getting back to his feet.

"Good?" Tony could swear the hunter was mad at him, but why?

"Yeah good. Means you'll remember not do that again."

"Not to do what? Save your ass?"

"No, not to ignore my orders." Dean replied with a growl. Nearly losing Tony had felt almost as bad as nearly losing Sam and Dean hated nearly losing Sam. It made him scared and he hated feeling that way. His usual response was to get pissed.

"Look, that thing had knocked you into a tree. I didn't know if you were alive or dead. If I hadn't…." Tony began, defending himself.

"If you had just done what I told you and burned the bones as soon as you got the casket open, it would have never gotten another chance at you. Next time, don't worry so much about my ass and worry more about your own."

"Well, it is a nice ass." Tony said, rubbing his sore backside from where he'd been thrown violently to the ground.

"Thanks DiNozzo, nice of you to notice. But I hate to tell ya that I don't swing that way."

"Funny.

Once he was patched up, Tony forced Dean into a chair to take a look at his head. After cleaning the wound, Tony looked into Dean's eyes. "You should probably see a doctor. I think you have a concussion and I should know. I've had about twenty."

"Twenty? Is that all?" Dean said, shrugging the other man off and pointing to Tony's leg.

"That might need stitches, by the way."

"Nah, it's not deep enough," Tony replied.

Dean shrugged, willing to let it go at that. "What're you going to tell your boss when you show up limping to work tomorrow morning?"

"I'll tell him I fell down the stairs."

"Think he'll believe it?"

"Nope, but he'll just assume I did something even more idiotic and won't press it."

"Sounds like he's got your number."

"Winchester, you have no idea. You got somewhere to go and rest up?"

"Nah I'm fine. I've been hurt worse than this from my brother…….when he was four."

Tony narrowed his eyes. He wasn't a doctor, but he knew the signs of a concussion when he saw one. Being alone was a bad idea.

Seeing the look on Tony's face, Dean held up a hand.

"Don't worry, man. My next stop is a hotel for a couple days. I'll call my friend Bobby and he'll call me every couple hours. It's not the first time we've had to do remote concussion checks."

Tony helped Dean pack his stuff into his car and then the two shook hands.

"Well Winchester, I have to say, that was probably the most interesting Halloween I've ever had. The funny thing is that it may also be the most fun I've had too."

Dean laughed as he got into his car and started the engine. "Same here, DiNozzo. I'll give you a call the next time I'm near D.C."

"Looking forward to it," Tony replied with a laugh of his own.

"Oh and DiNozzo?" Dean asked before driving off.

"Yeah?

"Next time, I get to pick the bar."

The End


End file.
